


destiny defies all logic

by pepperfield



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society, Dreams, Gen, Post-Sburb/Sgrub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 08:05:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepperfield/pseuds/pepperfield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Jade and you live a relatively normal life! You go to university, hang out with your friends, and work part-time at your job. Pretty ordinary!</p><p>But sometimes you get the feeling that you forgot something of grave importance to you. Something that no one else seems to be missing.</p><p>Something that your dreams want you to remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	destiny defies all logic

On Wednesday, you wake at 6:18 am, your head caught in a fog of clinging sleep, the weak promise of sunlight still on the horizon. You had that same dream again, the one that's been silently slipping into your brain at your most vulnerable moments. The details have already escaped you, but the impression of lilacs is left behind. Your eyes flutter closed, shutting out the blurry, dim view of your bedroom, and instead your imagination fills with a pale brush of early morning purple, the muted watercolors of a cloudy dawn.  
  
When you open your eyes again, you realize that you've been crying, but you let the tear tracks remain on your skin. The salt will heal you.  
  
Since you're already awake, you put on your glasses and slippers and shuffle out your bedroom door. Sitting at the dining room table is Rezeki, a mug of tea in one hand, held up halfway to his mouth. He's too engrossed in the daily paper to actually take a sip, so the cup hovers there, perfectly still. You pull out a chair and sit next to him, startling him out of his trance. With wide eyes, he places his cup back down and takes your face in his hands, carefully tracing your features with one finger.  
  
"Jade? Why are you up so early? Are you okay?" He's trying to whisper so as not to give you a headache, bless him, but his gruff voice can't quite handle it. You nod, even as he wipes away the drying remains of your tears.  
  
"It was that dream again," you tell him.  
  
He gets up out of his chair, scraping the legs across the tiles, and cringes at the sound. "Sorry," he shout-whispers. "Is it that one you can't remember?" Opening the refrigerator door, he roots around until he finds an orange, which he tosses to you. You catch it with one hand.  
  
"Yeah, but I know it's the same one. I don't know, it's all really frustrating, but at the same time, I kind of look forward to them?" Jabbing your fingernail into the rind, you dig until you've got enough to start peeling. It unwinds in one long strip, something that Abby taught you how to do the night before your chem final in freshman year. You were exhausted and gorged on fruit, and it was only Abby's continuous poking at your side that kept you awake. You got a 98 on that test.  
  
Rezeki sits back down, scratching awkwardly by the base of one of his 7-shaped horns. "I'm just kind of worried about you. You don't seem to be sleeping that well recently."  
  
You smile and pass him an orange segment which he obligingly pops in his mouth, grimacing at the tart juice. "I'll be fine. It's not like those other dreams. These'll probably pass once spring break starts up."  
  
Your moirail looks uncertain, but he nods. "Do you need anything? Want to go to the balcony?"  
  
"Sure! That'd be nice." He takes his mug and you your orange and the two of you sit down together on your tiny balcony. If you slide down a little, you can rest your head on his shoulder. He wraps his free arm around you and you imagine that you can feel the heat of the cerulean blood coursing through his veins.  
  
Sometimes, you wake up in cold sweats, your hands raised above you in a protective stance, your heart shuddering in double time, trying to hammer its way right out of your body. On those nights, you sit out on here with a blanket, trying to locate the stars drowned out in the constellations being broadcast from the city. There's something comforting about the thought that there are other planets out there beyond your gaze, past even the twin moons floating blue-gray and pink in varying crescents. Space, draped in its quiet vastness, is a constant friend, especially when you're shaken from sleep in a frenzy of adrenaline and brittle, intangible deja vu.  
  
Today isn't like that. This new dream is like the last line of a book, the final secret imparted before death, a deeply beloved melancholy threaded through your skin. You want to hold it close, but it kisses you goodbye before you can reach out for it. Rezeki's the only one you've ever confided any of this to.  
  
The two of you watch the sunrise, saying nothing. The shade of purple you're hoping for doesn't appear.  
  
\--  
  
That afternoon, you're running behind since Quantum II let out late. Drew offers to drive you to work, but you know he's got to get across town to pick up his sister from the hospital, so you wave him off. Fresh air is good for you.  
  
Halfway to Floralia, you remember that it's easier to get Sara to forgive you if you butter her up with cookies from Hleiba's, so you swerve suddenly to the left, almost running down a young woman who just crossed the street. "Sorry!" you shout as you disappear into the bakery, but you don't stop to see if she heard you.  
  
By the time you finally reach the shop, you are even later, and Sara's at the counter finalizing something on the phone with a customer. You rush past her with a hasty hello, registering the annoyed twitch in Sara's cheek, before you reach the back room and dump all your stuff down. The cookies are the only protection you have from her ire, so you put them carefully on her desk, before collapsing into her chair.  
  
For some reason your breath is coming up quick, which alarms you. It's not like you're actually scared of Sara's little flares of temper, so it must be something else. Maybe you're just out of shape, but your hands are shaking, just minute little tremors, starting in your elbow and rumbling out through your fingers. You get the strange feeling of impending vertigo, but your boss' footsteps snap you out of it before your vision starts really swimming.  
  
Looking up, you see Sara is watching you with a raised eyebrow. "Those better have been double chocolate mint supremes I saw in there!"  
  
"Yep. All your regular favorites. I also got a snickerdoodle surprise since they had them for once." Your breathing has returned to normal. Sara hands you the broom and you begin sweeping up the fallen petals.  
  
A few hours later, you're tying a ribbon around the vase of a spring bouquet  when a car honks from outside. You place the vase in the refrigerator and head back to grab your things. "See you Friday!" you say to Sara, who's twisting some wire around a thin branch. She waves without looking and you step out into the night, drawing your coat tighter around your waist. The March air is still chilly.  
  
Thyone's sitting in the driver's seat of her old van, rocking out to some new band. Lately she's been into the spectrum-bending scene; you've seen her wearing her symbol in rainbow and shopping around for gray contacts online. When you open the door to climb into the passenger's seat, you find that she's actually listening to some human oldies and it makes you smile.  
  
"Y'wanna stop by the local grub n' sub b'fore we go home?" she asks, pulling out of the parking lot.  
  
"Yeah! Abby's not cooking tonight?"  
  
"On a date. She finally asked her flushcrush out," Thyone says with a smirk. "Don't tell 'er I said this, but he looks like a tool."  
  
"That's kind of harsh, isn't it? It can't be worse than that girl who wanted to be Rezeki's kismesis, right? She was...kind of wacky."  
  
"Pff. She'd clearly never talked to Rez f'r real. Idiot. How 'bout you? Got any suitors?"  
  
"You know I don't!" you splutter, looking out the window at the river of headlights streaming by. The city still amazes you, even though you've been living here for almost 4 years now. The pulse of life that seems to exist at all hours is truly astounding; you've even seen it in the gray hour before daybreak, when old timers circle slowly around the park and unfortunate businessmen wait in line sleepily at tiny coffee carts.  
  
"You sure? Blushin' awful hard for someone w'nothing to hide..."  
  
"I am?" Your cheeks are a bit warm, but that's probably just because of the heat in the car. You weren't even thinking about anyone, just the vague image of a long silver braid and lips painted a shiny black. You have no idea where those thoughts came from, but the pictures disappear once you try and concentrate on them. "No, there's nobody."  
  
"Mmhmm. Whatever y'say." You punch her in the arm and change the radio station to classical, to punish her.  
  
\--  
  
There are some things you don't divulge to Rezeki, even when he storms around you, gathering up pillows and tangle buddies in an instinctive urge to pile. Moirails are supposed to share anything and everything, in order to better help one another. It's straight out of the classic palemate handbook, which you've read cover to cover, dozens of times.  
  
But despite your history together, you don't tell him that you've experienced something like this before.  
  
Nine years ago, you had the same wispy, foggy dream, except everything was awash with cherry sweet red. They lasted just short of a week, and every morning you opened your eyes and let the flames fade away. On the seventh day, there was nothing. The only thing you saw when you woke was your mobile, dangling from the ceiling, each of the fifteen planets whirling gently in the air.  
  
You'd never felt so empty in your life.  
  
\--  
  
The other thing you don't tell Rez about is the pain.  
  
You're sitting in Intro to Sociology when it begins. The ache starts in the base of your spine, followed by a searing clench in your chest. All your nerves are burning, and you  _know_  that it's all psychosomatic, that the fire charring your body is an agony you've never actually felt before. The pain, you can handle. But the emotions that come with it, the heartbreaking loneliness, the flood of grief and regret and relief - it's too much. You slide off your seat to the ground, little choking sounds escaping from your throat. Inez, the girl who usually sits to your left, helps you to your feet and to the health center. You tell one of the campus doctors about the pain and assure them it's really no big deal, and no, this doesn't usually happen to you. It's not untrue; the last time this occurred was almost a decade ago. Just like last time, you're sure it'll go away eventually.  
  
You decide to skip the rest of Soc and sit outside before you meet the gang for lunch. The feelings have mostly passed, except a slow, soft burn in your chest, but that you can ignore. Today is unseasonably warm and you can lie in the grass without getting wet. Above you, the sky is summertime blue, the sun branded heavily on the backdrop of the atmosphere. In this heat, the urge to sleep tries to overtake you; it's almost irresistible, but you slap yourself a few times on the cheek to wake up. You get the nagging feeling that you forgot to do something important, and you're running out of time to fix it. But what is "it"?  
  
From your left, you can hear two voices getting progressively louder. It sounds like Dalúin and Tess fighting again, as they do. They both swear it's platonic, but the rest of you aren't so sure. When Rezeki spots you, he starts waving energetically at you. You smile back and briefly debate telling him about your trip to the doctor, but it's probably best if you don't. When he worries about you he breaks more electronics than usual, which is just distressing for everyone. If you tell him you think it's related to your dreams, he'll fret even more. He'll fly into mother hen mode and start trying to fight people to make things better. It's not worth trying to explain something you don't even understand yourself.  
  
\--  
  
When you get into work on Friday, Akkeri's finishing up a bouquet in the back, cutting off excess stems and leaves. You place your things down slowly, your body still somewhat sore from another attack of pain, before going to see what he's up to, and that's when you freeze.  
  
In his hand is a blue rose. Except science hasn't yet perfected its genetically modified flora, so the petals aren't blue so much as they are lavender.  
  
The color you've been dreaming of.  
  
He puts the last rose into the bouquet, making an even dozen, and begins to tape the stems to hold them together. As he's wrapping cellophane around the bouquet, he notices that you're staring at him, motionless, stricken.  
  
"Jade, are you alright?" Akkeri puts the flowers back down, and starts to move toward you.  
  
You wave frantically, shooing him back. "No, yeah, sorry. I'm totally fine! It's just, um, do you know where those flowers came from?"  
  
"A client ordered them online a few days ago. These are those special roses from that overseas company; it's rare to get something like this, but Sara said we'd do it, of course."  
  
"Haha, yeah, she never turns down a job. Um...have you seen this customer?" You walk up to the table and reach out to brush the pad of your finger against a petal. It feels like a normal rose. You don't know what you were expecting.  
  
"No, everything was done electronically, I believe. The delivery's for today, though. Do you...would you like to do it?" He's noticed that you're oddly obsessed with this bouquet. His golden eyes show some hint of concern.  
  
"Could I really? I know this seems kinda weird, but for some reason I just really need to do this."  
  
"Well, I don't mind. Let me just finish this, and I'll give you the instructions."  
  
You wait impatiently at the front counter while he puts on the ribbon and cellophane. The flowers might just be a coincidence, but something in your gut tells you it's more than that. There's something waiting for you at the destination of that bouquet. Something that will explain all the dreams you've been having your whole life, both those filled with violence and adventure and beauty, and those that leave you profoundly desolate when you wake.  
  
Akkeri finally hands you the bouquet and a slip of paper, and you tear out the door. On the paper, the words  _R. L., Cardinal Plaza, East Entrance_ _, 2 p.m_  are printed. You hop on the #4 bus at Linden and 9th, and stand next to an elderly greenblood who comments on how lovely the flowers are. Exiting the bus, you jog the last two blocks to the plaza, your heart rate quickened from more than just the physical exertion. The ache in your chest is back, blast it. You can feel the sweat cooling on your neck, bare from when Drew helped you crop it short last month. Around you, the city is alive with all manner of people, but you're too focused on the arch of the plaza entrance to pay attention.  
  
When you reach the tulips right outside the arch, you pause to catch your breath. This is it. Maybe you should have a plan. After all, what are you going to say to this woman? "Hi, we've never met, but I dreamed about your roses, can you please tell me what that means?" Crap. The more you think about this, the more ridiculous it seems, so you should just stop thinking and just act. Everything's going to be okay.  
  
Holding the bouquet in front of you, you walk through the arch and look at the people milling about. There's a young couple holding hands by the fountain, but they don't look like they're waiting on anything. You scan over an old man reading a book, and a troll boy skating past. A kindergarten pod of wigglers, a father with his daughter, three businessmen eating lunch. No one pays you or your flowers any mind. Just in case, you do a quick lap around this end of the plaza, past the fountain and square little grove of trees, back around the statue of some old explorer and the bike stands, but you don't see anyone who wants your roses.  
  
You check your watch. 2:08. Maybe she hasn't arrived yet? Maybe she left? Why didn't she leave a phone number? You turn and start walking back toward the arch, to catch her if she enters, but a brutal stab of pain to your stomach sends you doubling over, the bouquet tumbling from your hands. You try to catch it, but instead your knees give out, sending you crashing to the ground.  
  
You gasp desperately, trying to relieve the pain, but it spreads, cramping up both your calves, and you convulse like a dying animal, pupils blown and fingers clawing erratically at the ground. Someone runs over, one of the businessmen? You don't know, because your vision is swimming, your sight wet with unshed tears. He pulls out a phone and starts dialing for help, as a tall maroonblood with spiky hair tries to soothe you. A crowd begins gathering, a bunch of worried strangers and curious onlookers. The agony increases, but you sink your teeth into consciousness. You can't black out. There's no time left.  
  
Your mind is whirling with this thought:  _this is the last chance I'll get._  The rational parts of you don't know what that means, but the rational parts of you are also preoccupied with the immense amount of torture your body is putting you through. Your vision is mostly useless at this point, especially with the pounding in your skull, and even all the sounds around you start to fade away into white noise.  
  
All sounds but one. From a light year away, you hear a voice. It sounds like the melody to an old song you'd forgotten you'd loved.  
  
" _Let me go to her_."  
  
You try to reach your hand out toward the voice, but you're shaking too violently.  
  
" _I'm fine! Can't you see that she needs me?_ "  
  
It sounds like the soothing patter of rain. The seductive curl of midnight on the day of a new moon.  
  
" _It's alright. I'm here now. We didn't miss our chance_."  
  
Someone pushes through the crowd, shoving them away without thought to courtesy, and takes your hand in hers. She's shaking too, breath hitched and voice uneven. She lies down next to you, pulling you in tight for an embrace. You can feel her pulse, staccato and fast-paced. She's saying something, "...I thought the timing would be fine, but then I received a call yesterday saying they needed me back sooner, but at the last second I just knew that this was infinitely more important..." but you're not really listening to the words. Slowly, slowly, the pain recedes, starting from the parts of your body she's in contact with. Slowly, slowly, your body leaves hyper drive and returns to routine. You lose track of how long the two of you lie there, but at some point, your tears finally fall, clearing up your vision.  
  
She's looking at you. She, with eyes the color of your roses, the color of your dreams. A piece of the puzzle finally slots into place.  
  
She smiles, a little crookedly, black lipstick smudged a bit. Her silvery hair pools out in long strands around the both of you, and she smells like ink and taxi and cinnamon.  
  
"I don't think we've been properly introduced," she says. "My name is Rose, and I think you might just be the literal girl of my dreams."  
  
Without breaking eye contact, Rose gently shakes your hand, the one she's kept pulled close to her heart.  
  
"My name is Jade," you respond. "And I think I know exactly what you mean!"  
  
Yep, everything's going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> The roses mentioned are these:  
> http://www.suntory.com/news/2011/11186.html 
> 
> A blue rose is said to signify (or so Wikipedia tells me) attaining the impossible, love at first sight, and dreams come true.


End file.
